The Princess Warden
by ElissaCousland
Summary: Drabble, one-shot. Alistair comes down with the flu, so, no darkspawn hunting today. Leliana tries to tell the restless companions a story...


Author's Note: I don't own anything, I just twist it to my own desires! Enjoy!

-The Princess Warden-

_Cough! Hack!…Uhhgghh…_

"Oooohhh," Alistair moaned. This was what it felt like to die, surely. His body ached all over. He was too hot. His skin was clammy, but when he threw the blanket off, the chill breeze made him shiver. He felt as weak as a newborn kitten. His bones ached all over, as if he were already an old man. His head felt like a wild halla had kicked him.

"Elitha…pleathe… kill be dow…," his eyes rolled back in his head. _Maker's Breath, even talking hurt._ His throat burned, but at the same time it was so dry it was impossible for him not to swallow reflexively every few seconds. Tears filled his eyes. Swallowing caused pain as well.

"Yes, please," Morrigan said in a most derisive tone, "Put the poor creature out of _our_ misery."

"Shut up, Borriden!" _Ooooohh, the pain_…but it was worth it. He would endure any pain to see the anger flash in her eyes.

"Enough, _children_!" Wynne scolded, shooing Morrigan away from Alistair, where he sat near the large, roaring campfire that had been set entirely for him, since it was morning. Their entire day had been planned to kill many darkspawn, but now, they had to sit around camp and wait for him to get better.

"Poor dear," she cooed, wiping his forehead with a cold cloth. "Here, try some of this" she offered him a steaming, stinking mug of _…something _he wasn't entirely sure was drinkable.

Fresh tears welled up in the templar's eyes, "Ith all by fauld!" he wailed.

Elissa glanced at him, unsure what to do. She had never seen a grown man cry. Well, except for a few tears of joy from her father and Fergus when Oren was born, but that was to be expected.

This…was…just…_wrong_.

Why was he acting like such a _baby_? Was this what happened to all men who fell ill? Or was it just Alistair?

Wynne continued to coddle him, "It is not your fault, my dear--"

"Yeth it ithz! I've ruid ev'ybody's adventhure! No darkthpawn-killin' dow." he lamented.

_Adventure? _Leliana's head tilted in thought. A smile slowly spread across her face. She knew how to console him. "Ahem!" she cleared her throat loud enough to get everyone's attention.

When all eyes were on her, she continued.

"Once upon a time…"

Everyone else gathered around the fire, though well away from the templar, in case whatever he had was catching. Their eyes locked on the master storyteller.

"There lived a beautiful maiden…," Leliana's eyes briefly met Elissa's, and the Warden knew without doubt that the bard was making this up as she went along.

"…named…Buttercup."

"_Buttercup???" _Elissa looked perturbed, "What kind of a name is _Buttercup_?" she queried aloud.

Blue eyes narrowed in agitation "_Shush! _It's _my_ story, and I reserve the right to tell it as I see fit. Now hush, and listen," she chided the Warden. "Ahem, now where was I?"

"_Buttercup_," the Warden snorted, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Ah, yes, Buttercup. Buttercup was raised on a small farm in the country of Ferel--…ah,…Floren. Her favorite pasttimes were riding her horse…and tormenting the farm boy that worked there."

Everyone looked at Elissa, giggling. Highever was way out in the countryside of Ferelden, and they could easily see her tormenting her fair share of farm boys. Elissa pretended not to notice them, but the flush on her cheeks said otherwise.

Leliana continued, a smirk tugging at her lips, "The farm boy's name," she glanced pointedly at Alistair, and so did everyone else, "was…Westley."

"Bahahahaha!" Oghren belted, spitting the ale he had been sipping. He raised a suggestive brow at Alistair, "doesn't get much _gayer_ than that? Eh,…_Westley_?" he laughed, taking another large swig of ale. Snickers and suppressed giggles didn't do much to help hide his embarrassment.

"Nothing gave Buttercup as much pleasure as ordering Westley around," Leliana continued, her voice pointedly a tone lower, agitation beginning to build. Zevran quirked a suggestive brow at Elissa, "She can order _me_ around any time she likes," he leched. More giggles.

"Ahem! If I may continue, please?" Leliana, more than slightly annoyed.

"Of course, by all means," he made a grand flourish with his hand, deferring to the bard.

"Buttercup ordered Westley around for nothing gave her as much pleasure"

"I could give her as much pleasure," Zevran again, muttering under his breath.

Leliana stalked over to him and yanked on his ear. "Shall I bind your mouth shut?" she asked angrily.

"Only if you bind my hands and feet as well, my dear"

She sighed in frustration, shoving him away hard. He was hopeless.

"Ahem! So, Westley never said anything, his only reply was: As you wish."

Leliana thought she heard Morrigan mutter something that sounded like 'wussy', only she was sure it wasn't 'wussy'.

"The day came when Buttercup realized that as he said, As you wish, what he really meant was I love you. Then came the day when she realized that she truly loved him back."

Leliana told of a tale of grand, wonderous, love. True love.

A deep growl rumbled. Everyone looked over at Sten. He had a sour look on his face, repulsed. He quirked a brow at Leliana, "…Is this a _kissing _story?" he asked.

"Where'th all da 'venthure?" Alistair complained, through stuffed sinuses, "you said dere wuz dunna be a'venthure."

"AAAARRRRGGGHHHH!!!!" the bard threw her head back and screamed. "_SHUT UP!_ ALL OF YOU!!!" she cried in frustration.

The bard motioned Wynne over with a flick of her eyes. The old mage got to her feet and came to stand beside the bard. Leliana whispered to her while she eyed the others with contempt. Wynne eyed them all in turn, a wicked smile creeping over her old features. She turned back to Leliana, "Oh, I _like_ you," she said.

OOOOOOO

Leliana smiled as she told them the tale of Buttercup and Westley. The companions listened intently to the grand adventure which told of the sweet and gentle giant, the dashing elvish rogue, the balding dwarf who spoke with a pronounced lisp, the N.O.U.S.'s (Nugs of Unusual Size), the fire swamp, the screeching eels, the daring and mysterious dread pirate.

They sat through the whole story without a single interruption. Leliana beamed at Wynne. The old mage smiled, happy to oblige the bard. The companions all sat in a similar pose, cross-legged, with their ankles bound to their wrists and their mouths gagged shut.

"Wasn't that fun?" Leliana asked, clasping her hands together, "Oh, how I love story-time!" she exclaimed. "Now what shall I tell you next? Hmm…oh, I know!"

"This one is called the Story That Never Ends," she said, a small giggle escaping her.

The companions uttered a unified groan at the implication of the title, but they could do nothing, they were effectively held hostage to the bard's whimsy.

"Bastian was a good little boy. He loved to read…"

oooFINooo

A/N: This was inspired by Rapunzevran by Traxits. I know, it's not exactly a "fairy tale", but I always did love that movie. This was intended to be longer, but I got, uh...sidetracked, so I decided to cut it short. So, sorry if it's too short, hope you liked! :P


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